Three Assorted Christmas Eve Thoughts

Today we continue the assorted thoughts, all unrelated to one another and unrelated to Christmas Eve.

  1. Last week I was in the Post Office and there was a bit of a line, which gave me the opportunity to do nothing but eavesdrop and observe. There were four of us women in the lobby, all wearing jeans. I observed 3 styles: A. super tight, AKA “skinny jeans”, worn by someone simply because that is what was available or perhaps worn because she thought that any fad is simply “cute” without regard to whether or not it is flattering; B. very wide legs, rolled up to be “floods” or “high waters”, worn because they were available and fit or perhaps because she thought they were the “latest” (which only lasts a few months any more) without regard to whether or not it looked silly; C. normal jeans, except sort of baggy and stacked up on the shoes, worn because they are never in style nor out of style, they don’t squeeze a body, don’t look like “high waters”, because they fit, and because they are comfortable. (Bet you can guess what Jeans Camp I belong to). I was happy to see that no one was wearing purposely torn jeans.
  2. In listening to a podcast that ends with “something you might not know”, I learned that The Chipmunks were created in 1958 by someone messing around with an old tape recorder (or whatever machine was around then) on high speed. As a result, I got them singing their Christmas song on repeat in my head. Made me laugh to hear those voices from my youth.
  3. I might be finished with the Yellow Tunnel! I dug through the provided photos and cobbled together enough visual helps to turn the humanoid into a hiker, then texted Mr. Customer. He said, “I think he looks great!” I replied, “Well, glory to God for answered prayers for help on this!”

Then I painted the edges.

not finished

That’s enough. I am guessing most of my blog readers have other things to do on Christmas Eve than read assorted and sundry thoughts from an artist’s rambling and active mind.

Yes, calendars and spaces in the beginning drawing workshop are still available. Look at yesterday’s post for the links. I’m busy thinking thoughts rather than finding links.

Five Assorted Christmas Adam Thoughts

“Christmas Adam”?

Yep. Adam came before Eve.

Today will be a peek into the variety of tasks required so far this week to maintain the business of self-employed artist.

  1. I expected to paint on the Ivanhoe Library mural twice this week, but they are closed. Until/unless they provide a key to the building, I will only be painting on the days they are open. (I wonder if they regret not providing a key?) Good thing Rep found out for me, and that Intern is flexible.

2. The host of my website and blog billed me an enormous sum of $$$, an upgrade to Professional Hosting. Because I use DuckDuckGo, I couldn’t go onto my account and see what was happening. It took awhile, but when I figured out that I needed to use Safari to log on, I called the company and reached a helpful human. She said I’ve been paying for 20 GB of storage and am currently up to 46 GB. (I know, no speakie.) We worked out a compromise, where I pay about $250 less than the billed amount, which includes another year. I will begin deleting old blog posts and the photos in order to not exceed 50 GB. (I know lbs. but am unsure of GB, except that it is greater than MB, which is greater than KB. Took a couple of decades to get that far in my understanding.)

3. Deleting old blog posts is in my immediate future. Because I post 5 days a week and have been since 2008, that is a lot of material. Frankly, no one cares. Sometimes when I look at old posts, related to current post in order to link to them and perhaps get discovered by more readers, I then see that the photos are missing, or the format is wonky. 2008 seems new to me in terms of vehicles we drive, but in terms of the interwebs, it is just plain historical.

Well, that was a lot and kind of boring. Let’s look at an odd job that recently came my way. I get these from time to time because A. I am the only artist that many people know; B. I return phone calls and emails and follow up; C. My prices don’t scare people. Most people, that is.

But I digress.

4. A friend has beautiful carved cupboard doors in his kitchen (I guess in his kitchen—I’ve not been inside his house). He had one extra, and decided it would look great as art on the wall. He asked me to enhance it.

We weren’t exactly sure if this would work, so I sent some samples, in which I applied a little bit of oil paint, seeking his approval, and then wiped it off if it wasn’t fitting his vision.

First, a touch of purple was approved.

This green was too light.

I wiped it off and replaced it with this one, which was approved.

This was really fun—very subtle, transparent so the wood color and grain still comes through, and very forgiving.

5. My printer kept saying it was jammed. I practiced some insanity of following the unjamming steps over and over despite it not having any paper jammed in it, and then it began working again. I only had to go through the steps about seven times.

Tomorrow, on Christmas Eve (which follows Christmas Adam), I will continue the assorted thoughts.

Thank you, and Blessed Christmas Adam, Dear Readers.

P.S. Calendars are still available. Look here for the info. Or email me here: cabinart [at] cabinart [dot] net. (Written that way because of internet gremlins.)

P.P.S. The Beginning Drawing Workshop is still open for registration. Look at this blog post from Monday for the details.

Day of Art Business Variety

This happened yesterday. First, I went to the post office to mail some packages of this painting and some calendars.

From the PO I jaywalked across the highway to the bank to deposit moola from the day before in Tulare and a check paying for this painting, which sold at the Mural Gallery.

When I got home, there were sirens, more sirens, lights, more sirens, and every type of emergency vehicle imaginable going past. A friend, a neighbor, and the mail lady drove into our driveway all at the same time, everyone speculating and sharing what they knew. Trail Guy, L (the friend), and I decided to walk down to see what we could see. When we got there, about 1/2 of the emergency vehicles had left, so we were feeling hopeful that it wasn’t as awful as first imagined.

The driver doesn’t know what happened—just driving, then sideways. The windshield was completely smashed on the driver’s side, because that is the way the driver was extracted. The driver wasn’t hurt, just puzzled and embarrassed and dismayed and every other emotion when your life is suddenly disrupted to this degree with multiple uniforms surrounding you. (Yes, keeping things anonymous here.)

I walked back home, puzzled, a bit worried about what happened to the driver, and just slayed by the clarity of the day.

Some paperwork was demanding attention in the studio, because if one doesn’t stay current, one will miss expenditures and deposits and emails and real mail, no matter how much one thinks she will remember later. And no matter how careful she thinks she has been, the end-of-the-year bookkeeping is always a little ragged. It didn’t take too long, and I felt rather smug about handling it so efficiently (which somewhat balances out the irritation of those ragged parts in the year-end machinations.)

After puttering around with mural paints in preparation for the next painting day, which was an excuse to be outside in the sunshine, I finally moved into the painting workshop to see if I could progress on the Yellow Tunnel.

First, more blue patches in the cottonwoods.

The humanoid is very intimidating, frankly, just too hard… inadequate photos, and very small. I won’t be quitting, but today wasn’t the day for this degree of precision. (Yikes on the skin color, complete uncertainty on almost everything else.)

Edges! I’ll paint the edges! Trouble is, the top of the canvas is quite a bit above my vision. I moved the easel to the floor and in the process I banged my bad wrist, which I thought was well enough to stop wearing the brace. (De Quervain’s Tennosynovitis, now in the 14th month of trying to rob me of joy.) Holy guacamole, how will I be able to work on the mural Friday?

I’ll cross that bridge when I get to it. Intern will be with me, so we’ll figure something out. I was able to do this upper edge of the canvas, but then I quit for the day because ow. OW. OW. Dang it dang it dang it.

I was able to do a bit of texting, keeping current with the customer on my progress. There is a great big distance between us geographically, which can make a customer feel a bit nervous. This customer and I are actually good friends, so he isn’t nervous, and I just like to stay in contact.

He mentioned an interest in another painting to go with this one (which is to go with another one he owns), so I mentioned these two, which are still available. Pushy artist, eh? Nope, helpful. I hope. (The colors are SO MUCH BETTER IN PERSON.)

And since I am being a helpful artist, here is the calendar for your consideration. Prolly won’t make it by Christmas, but it will make it by January 1 if you order soon, depending on your location. $25 includes mailing and tax.

SHARON, DON’T LOOK AT THE SECOND IMAGE!

Long Distance Commission, Chapter 6

Remember this painting from before I began the mural? (I certainly hope so, since I showed it to you yesterday with a few trees completed on the left.)

I finished landscaping the distance. (Maybe. There’s always room for improvement.)

Then I texted Mr. J. (the customer) with a photo and this question: “Can you say if the roof color moves more toward a brownish gray or toward a bluish gray? I know that’s getting into some artsy nitpicky details, but I have to ask in case [it matters]. Maybe I should make my prices 10 times as high so I can fly places and check out things with my own eyes!” (Yes, I am editing my text for you, Blog Reader, so it makes the most sense)

Mr. J. replied: “Maybe include it as an option for customers to pay directly.”

I responded: “That is an excellent idea. Would you like to be the first?”

Mr. J.: “Like to? Yes. Able. . .?”

Me: “Shoot. I thought you were going to send me an airline ticket. I was momentarily confused, forgetting that we met on the Frugal Girl blog.”

Then I put down the phone and painted a new layer on the roof.

For this type of precision painting, I often rotate the canvas so that I can precisely monitor the edge of the brush. If the handle or my hand is blocking the view of the bristles, how can I be accurate?

CORRECT! I CANNOT!

Next, bricks and shutters and windows.

Much more detail remains for the windows and doors and landscaping. I carried it into the warm house for quicker drying. This is very intense work, and in order to apply detail, the paint beneath must be dry, or almost dry. The shine on the sky is an indication of wet paint, and the changing color on the roof is an indication of the changing light as the day progressed.

It was an interesting painting day, because I’d paint about 15 more minutes which turned out to be an entire hour. I must have been having fun, because time flew. There were no walks, no sitting in the sun, and lunch was quickly scarfed down while standing at the kitchen counter until I realized that I could finish it while walking back to the workshop.

I am seriously grateful to Trail Guy for keeping the house warm and fixing dinner. How do people manage without supportive spouses??

Meanwhile, Back in the Painting Workshop

Why “painting workshop”? Because I don’t paint in the studio. I draw in the 11×13’ studio; painting is too messy for that little space.

Since I am taking a break from the library mural, I now have time to return to the oil painting commissions.

We finally had a sunny day, which made it much easier to see. This is how the painting looked in the morning.

The day’s goal was to get all the green cottonwood leaves turned yellow. I mixed several shades of yellow and gold, and began working methodically from top to bottom and left to right.

A friend texted me to ask for a photo of me working on a painting. The choices were to wait until the evening and go through my 30,000 photos or hand the camera to Trail Guy. We opted for the second choice. My jacket is green, not blue. See? Cameras do lie.

I painted some more leaves.

Then Trail Guy tempted me with a walk, and as I stepped out of the workshop, I was struck once again by my flowering pear tree, which has brought us prolonged color this year.

After the walk, the temptation to sit in the sun was strong, but I was stronger, returning to the painting workshop.

Two more photos of the yellow tunnel. Next it needs more sky patches, but until it is dry, blue would just turn green when applied over the wet yellow. I worked on the humanoid a tiny bit. Very tricky without one accurate photo; I’m just cobbling many photos together, seeking believability. There are now yellow leaves on the ground too.

Then it was time to return to another commission oil painting, which has been on hold for several weeks while I was muralizing. Muraling. Painting the mural. Freezing, actually. Well, not literally. Shivering.

First, I needed to stare at it for awhile to become reacquainted.

Then, I tiptoed into the trees on the left. The light ran out and it was time to convert the painting workshop back into the cats’ home. Kitty curfew comes early in these days of short daylight.

This painting doesn’t feel nearly as hard since I have been working on the mural. Yeppers, I can do this!

2026 Calendars, available here (or if you encounter me around the area in Mom’s Car), $25, includes mailing.

Library Mural, Day Six

If you subscribe to my blog, you probably received an email last night about a new post. It is scheduled to publish on Friday, but I hit the wrong button. Then I immediately rescheduled it. So, you may have read Friday’s already (or you may have no idea at all what I am talking about here!)

Yesterday was a day of painting oranges. The challenge was to separate the trees from one another as they diminish toward the distance. It was a little boring to photograph each step, so let’s start with how it looked the day before yesterday.

Before

I got a little bogged down so moved to the label.

I could hear my internal coach saying, “HEY! Paint from back to front!” So I began working on the oranges on the right side. That side is noisier and colder (the wind comes around the corner) and darker with those peculiar fruitless mulberry trees that are still holding their leaves.

Thus we conclude Day Six. I won’t be back to paint until a week from tomorrow.

2026 CALENDARS, “AROUND HERE… and sometimes a little farther” available here, $25. All the drawings were new in 2025. You’ve only seen the one of the pier, which sold in the show of the same title.

Library Mural, Day Five

From solid blue sky to wispy clouds.

Sky and mountains are the farthest away, and I think they are finished. Next closest is the orange grove. Oy vey, those leaves!

Very very cold day. The garbage truck went up and down the street about 8 times. There were roosters crowing. The little pickup with the giant stereo pulled in across the street and this time he shut off the “music”. I saw the normal 2 or 3 cats, and the handful of little dogs that trot around with purpose. The county supervisor stopped by and I also talked to a group of women who were meeting in the library, a man named Ruben, and a neighbor, who reassured me that the recent murder was a family dispute and took place on the bad side of town, not where we are.

Good to know.

Today I might paint oranges on the trees. Or dirt on the ground. The ground on the painting, not the muddy ground I stand on to paint.

2026 CALENDARS, “AROUND HERE… and sometimes a little farther” available here, $25. All the drawings were new in 2025. You’ve only seen the one of the pier, which sold in the show of the same title.

Library Mural, Day Four

Intern returned, so we studied the wall together and discussed the next step. He put a base coat on Twin Buttes, and I worked on the mountains south of Alta Peak, since I got a few semi-helpful photos on Friday.

Together we mixed the color of the background of the packing label. Intern was SHOCKED that I painted the two oranges on the label before the background. Together we peeled back the masking tape, and he did a great job while I kept figuring out the mountains and a facsimile of Venice Hill. This is an odd group of hills just east of Ivanhoe, not exactly visible from town but definitely a landmark. I just made it up, because it looks different from every vantage point.

When I was satisfied with the distant mountains and fake Venice Hill, I began tinkering with the last inset, the auditorium of the Ivanhoe School back in the last century when I attended school there.

Intern was so cold that his teeth were chattering, so I told him that he had done enough for the day and sent him home. He was very helpful in many ways, and I also was able to teach him some helpful things about perspective and portraiture. Although he is a college student taking art classes, the instruction is insufficient. That’s how it was when I was in college too, and it is why I love helping people learn to draw.

The orange leaves have been troubling me. I know they will be delineated in the closer branches and trees, and be less clear when farther away. I can paint orange trees in oil and draw them in pencil, but using acrylic paint on a wall is just confounding me, handcuffing me so that I cannot figure out how to paint orange leaves. So I got a little help with them from a fellow muralist in the form of some texted photos and tried again. This time I just started with the farthest trees, hoping that I’ll figure out how to detail the closer ones.

After painting awhile, I stood back to see if the 2 halves of the mural make sense together. This caused me to jump over to the right side and rearrange the rows a bit, then begin texturing the distant trees.

After 6 hours of standing in the cold and the mud, I was ready to quit. So, I tried the combination on the trailer locks and was able to figure out how to open the thing. I carried my crates and stepladder to the opposite side of the library from the mural and put them in the ridiculously oversized trailer. Can you say “overkill”?

I have been asking for months to be given a key to the library so I can stash 2 ladders (now down to needing only one) and 3 crates of paint (now down to only 2), and to have access to water and to a facility. Instead of doing this apparently easy thing, they hauled in this giant trailer, parked it far from the mural, and I have no access to either water or a bathroom.

They’re from the government and they are here to help me.

I am able to make process in spite of this “help”.

2026 CALENDARS, “AROUND HERE… and sometimes a little farther” available here, $25. All the drawings were new in 2025. You’ve only seen the one of the pier, which sold in the show of the same title.

Library Mural, Day Three

Intern had other obligations, so I was on my own again. First things first: what is that little doghouse on a post, secured in a tire? I sent a photo to the previous librarian for the answer.

She replied thus: “It was a community event that we kept seeds and but of course it didn’t last by a week”. I concluded 2 things: 1. Even librarians don’t proofread their texts and 2. It was a failed experiment for sharing seeds (the current librarian said someone tore the door off immediate. . . sigh.) I guess that people who garden already have a network for seed sharing. I wonder how it can be used.

I unloaded the car next. After lugging the 3 crates of paints for 2 painting days, I realized that the gallon buckets aren’t necessary. I can refill the jars at home when necessary. Still have to haul water, because there is no faucet available. I do not have access to the library on the days it is closed, and the storage closet is more trouble than the trunk of my car or the back of the pickup. The county hauled a trailer to the site, supposedly for me, and my stuff will only occupy about 1/100th of the space!

It was cold, and I couldn’t figure out where to start. (What the temperature has to do with indecision is an unsolved mystery.) When I don’t know what to do, I pick something easy. Time to mix orange paint (because I work from the primaries, I mix my own colors. )

I must have taken these photos while standing around, trying to figure out where to begin.

Finally, I decided to just focus on the far left edge. Get some oranges in place, build a few leaves around them.

I walked to the edge of the library yard and picked a leaf from the neighbor’s citrus tree. This reassured me that my greens are mostly okay while slapping me with the reality that my leaves are coming up insufficient. The orange paint is transparent and will take multiple coats.

Still bumbling around, fumbling along, so I tried the smudgepots.

Never mind. Entirely the wrong size, completely unacceptable. Maybe I’ll just tackle the orange label. I know! I’ll fill in the triangle between the insets and fill in the areas of dirt that were previously taped off.

Is that sunshine?? It is!!

Maybe instead of trying to do perfect leaves on the far left which are supposed to look close, I’ll just work on the distant more vague trees.

That label was calling my name, and I didn’t want to waste the bright orange paint on the palette paint bucket lid.

Ooh, that is looking fine. Fine! Finally, something is working. (See all that mud? It ends up in the feet of the ladder and the shoes of the artist.)

The hills behind are supposed to bring to mind Venice Hill, a geographical oddity in the vicinity, and also start delineating the trees in the row on the right.

A few interesting things on Friday: I met Cuco from the public utilities/waterworks, who told me of a tank they might want a mural on; met Melé from across the street who used to draw and whose son is interested in art; someone in the neighborhood has a stereo with bass that almost shook my two fillings loose (I’ll be taking earplugs next time); a group of women crocheted together in the library in the morning; the library will soon activate a computerized machine where reserved books can be retrieved by scanning one’s library card; still no key provided for access to storage and facilities but by George, there is a locked trailed on the opposite side of the liberry, just waiting for my use (IF anyone provides the combination to the locks.

Calendars available here, $25, includes postage and sales tax.